A year passed.
And the idea that this was a dream finally died.
This is real.
I am in a body that doesn't belong to me.
In a life that isn't mine.
What the hell is happening?
I can talk now. My parents were shocked by how quickly I learned. I walk, I understand, I observe. Physically, I'm three years old.
Mentally...
I'm thirteen.
I used to hear people talk about reincarnation. Other lives. Souls reborn. I never believed any of that nonsense.
But now?
Is this my punishment?
My sentence?
The last time I killed myself to "wake up," I ended up here.
So I reached a conclusion.
If I die again, the next life might be worse.
There might not be a next one at all.
And deep down... I know I'm not going back.
I spent the entire day in my room.
That night, my parents came in. They looked serious.
Alexander cleared his throat.
"Son... there's something you need to know."
Elizabeth pushed him aside.
"Oh, stop it. I'll tell him."
My father didn't look pleased.
Elizabeth knelt in front of me.
"So... I want to tell you a story. Like a bedtime story. But... it's important."
She hesitated.
"There was once a knight obsessed with treasure. He made a deal with the devil to make his dream come true."
Of course he did.
"He had to kill seven children... and obtain a dragon's heart."
That's not a bedtime story.
"What happened next?" I asked calmly.
"For the treasure to appear," she continued, "he used magic."
Magic.
Please don't say what I think you're about to say.
Alexander suddenly snapped.
"You don't have to tell him that blasphemy!"
Then he looked at me.
"We have a book for you. I want you to read something from it."
I didn't like where this was going.
Elizabeth flipped through the pages.
"Oh! This one is simple. Repeat after me."
She read aloud:
"For the love buried in your heart, I ask your mercy-cry for me."
This is so corny I might actually die from embarrassment.
Still, I repeated it.
"For the love buried in your heart, I ask your mercy-cry for me."
Silence.
Elizabeth frowned. "Hmm... nothing happened. I guess he doesn't have magical power."
"Can you be more positive?" Alexander muttered.
Then he leaned closer, voice softer.
"Son... you don't have to force anything. Even if you turn out to be what we fear... we're still your parents. That won't change. You belong somewhere."
Belong?
You're strangers.
This world is fake.
My name is not Xavier.
I screamed those words in my mind-
And suddenly my palms grew hot.
Water began dripping from them.
Alexander's eyes widened.
"That's my boy! You're doing it!"
"Lower your voice!" Elizabeth hissed. "This isn't our usual neighborhood, Alex."
Not our usual neighborhood?
Wait.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Elizabeth froze.
"Oh! Haha... about that... we didn't tell you, did we?"
My head filled with questions.
I remembered my father being rich.
But my mother?
Alexander sighed. "You're still a child. You wouldn't understand what we're involved in."
I looked him directly in the eyes.
"Don't treat me like an idiot."
"Xavier! Language!" Elizabeth snapped.
Alexander studied me carefully.
"You... really are different."
"Of course I am," I replied. "I can talk. I can read. I understand everything. Stop pretending I'm like other children."
He hesitated.
"...Sometimes," he said slowly, "you act like an adult reborn as a child."
For a second, my heart stopped.
If I told them the truth, they might believe it. In a world with magic, reincarnation wouldn't sound insane.
But not yet.
I want to see where this goes.
Alexander finally exhaled.
"...Very well. If you want the truth, you deserve it."
He straightened his posture.
"I am the Prince of the Kingdom of Holmes."